Swordflight
by Adamantium Rose
Summary: The death of Magneto brings a young mutant to the Institute, checkered history and all.
1. Prologue

Author's Note: This is all written on a whim. I have NO IDEA where this is going, so bear with me on this. While the prologu is rather lacking in names, details, things like that, IT WILL ALL BE EXPLAINED WITH TIME. Breathe. (More is coming _real_ soon)

Disclamer: I do NOT own the X-men, or any other such characters as mentioned here.

Prologue:

"Get back!" I shouted, my Combat- Overlay telling me exactly what each of the X-men was about to do. Thinking fast, I grabbed a Capsule from my belt pouch and flung it at the mutants, instantly enveloping them in an opalescent energy dome. Booms, explosions, sparks and smoke told me that the X-men were trying to escape unsuccessfully, each in their own particular way.

Satisfied, I turned my cold eyes to face Magneto. Then, in one motion, I reached behind myself and drew my sword.

_"En Garde."_


	2. Steel does not sing

A/N Once again, this is a whim. Chapters will get longer and meatier, I swear!!! 

Disclaimer: I do notown the X-men, nor Tamora Pierce's Lioness series or characters ( p.s. this is not a x-over)

Swordflight- Chapter 1

As I stood facing off with Magneto, the strangest thought came to mind. It was from when I was young, only seven or so, and I was standing in a bookstore reading a book called _Lioness Rampant_. Then climax consisted of a very odd battle with a powerful Jewel and a struggle in some underground catacombs. The heroine was holding on to a sword that was being summoned by her enemy. The Lioness, the heroine, let go of the sword when the evil villain was least expecting it and he implaled himself on his own sword. Now, the situation was errily familiar to my _own_, current siruation. But still, that memory was only distracting me right now, and I really needed to concentrate. "Snap out of it, silly." I growled at myself, and shook my head slightly to clear my thoughts.

Damn those stupid Lioness books with their Dukes and their sword tricks and their Dominion Jewels! I pulled back harder on the sword, the hilt digging into my palms and my arms screaming.

Oh, that… that Lioness! Stupid sword trick wouldn't work here anyway, this was Magneto I was talking about. Well, thinking about. He wasn't so dumb as to pull so hard on a sword that it would fly straight into him. He'd stop it, of course.

Then I laughed, a bitter, harsh laugh. Magneto _flinched._ WTF, I murmured, and let go.

The sword didn't so much sing as scream as it sprang forward eagerly.

Magneto did not scream, or laugh, or make any noise as the sword connected. He didn't even look surprised.

He simply fell over, and died.

OoOoOoO

I was tired. Really tired. But there were still the X-men to consider. I couldn't just leave them locked up in the Capsule forever. Well, I could, and just wait for them to find their own way out, but that would be wrong. They'ed only been trying to _help_ me, not kill me. With a sigh, I stood and walked over to the Dome. I scooped up the Capsule and with a flick of my fingernail, dissolved the Dome.

The X-men uncoiled from where they had been, settling into fighting stances. I resisted the urge to grin and scream 'Boo!' at them. Man, I was really getting hysterical now.

"Who are you?" That was Phoenix. I didn't know her real name, just her codename.

"Jeanie, what matters more is this question: Who's side are you on, bub?" That was Wolverine, glaring at me menacingly with his claws extended. Jean. That was the Phoenix's name. I filed it away for future reference.

"Shush, Wolverine." This was another woman, pushing her way up to the front of the group. By her silvery hair, I recognized her as Storm, the weather-witch of the lot. " My name is Storm. I am the leader of this Squad." I nodded my head in acknowledgement of this fact, and she held out her hand. Then, I paused, uncertain of how much to say. Finally, I decided what my next move would be.

I stepped forward and stuck out my hand, and we shook. "And, you are…?" Was Storm's polite query.

I took a deep breath.

" Kerrie Grae, mutant, and former Commander of the Brotherhood's Weapons Effort and Strategy unit. Call me Kestral.

OoOoOoO

The metal table was COLD. I sat there, bored out of my mind, idily kicking my legs back and forth against the table. After I had told the X-men who I was, I had been hustled off, onto a jet and closely watched until I had arrived in this medical looking place. To be honest, it gave me the chills, being somewhere so… sterile.

They were suspicious of me, that was for certain. _As though killing Magneto isn't enough proof for them. Hmph._ I snorted. This was getting unbearable.

It definitely was an improvement over the Brotherhood and WES, though. There were no chains. Yet.

" And there never will, be Kerrie, I can assure you of that." I jumped and swore, whirling to face the man who came rolling in. From the many discriptions I had heard in the Barracks at the Brotherhood, this man must surely be Professor Charles Xavier, Headmaster at the Xavier Institute and a very powerful telepath.

"Were you reading my mind?" I growled angrily. He smiled.

"No, Miss Grae, but some especially distressed thoughts can come to the surface without you knowing. You have a very tight natural shield. I couldn't read you unless you let me." I relaxed slightly and switched my sight to Combat- Overlay. One could never be to cautious.

"What do you want, Xavier?" I spat bluntly. " I doubt you'd turn me over to the authorities for the murder of one Eric Lensherr, a.k.a. Magneto, seeing as you were trying to kill him yourselves," and I glared pointedly at the two X-men standing behind him.

I knew I was being harsh, but, heck, this had NOT been a good day. I had abandoned my "job", killed my Leader, and was not a virtual prisoner in my former enemy's territory! Truly, things weren't going well for me. At all.

Xavier only smiled. I shivered slightly. Oh no... That was really not a good sign.


	3. His RightHand Man

Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men, much as I would love to…

Swordflight - His Right-Hand Man

"You see, my mutation, I call it Combat-Overlay. It allows me to se what move my opponent is going to make. Effectively used, I can anticipate exactly how to fight someone off. It also works with large groups of fighters like on a battlefield. Magneto used me to coordinate his attacks for him. He never was good at planning things." I saw Jean's lips quirk and Logan roll his eyes. I had learned the real names of the rest of the X-men on the jet-flight back from the woods.

Professor Xavier leaned back in his wheelchair and frowned. Logan whistled. "You mean, you were in on all'a Magneto's plans? Wolverine looked at me warily. I grimaced.

"Yup. And after a while, he realized exactly how much of a security threat that made me." I shrugged. It was all numb now, and I could afford to be unemotional about it.

"You were his right-hand man…" breathed Ororo, also known as Storm. I grimaced again.

"Woman. But, yeah, I was. And I wasn't always the most willing advisor, either. Towards the end, let's just say he wasn't sane anymore." I saw Xavier twitch slightly out of the corner of my eye, and I turned to face him. " Heard rumors in the Barracks that you two had been friends, once upon a time." I said. My voice was quiet, but held no pity.

"But the deaths, the killings... No other blood could repay that but his own."

Xavier squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them. "Very well." He sounded tired. "If you will let me, I will read you, to verify your story."

I bit my lip, then nodded. If this let me sleep, then so be it. I hadn't slept for two days, planning Magneto's latest attack for him. Right then, I didn't really care about Xavier's mind-reading or not.

Wordlessly, I pulled my carefully wrought shields down and let Xavier in.

OoOoOoO

The memory search was pretty much how I had been told it would be like. It almost felt cliché, I'd heard about it so many times. Memories, flashing past, unimportant ones being skipped over, relevant ones being detained and examined more closely.

…_Me as an eight-year-old kid, being taught my first few passes with a sword at my dad's fencing club..._

_…Amazing the instructors as I blocked every single hit, only later realizing that it had been an early manifestation of my mutant ability..._

_…Then my mum and dad divorcing, and me getting the bright idea to run away to the Brotherhood..._

_…My training there, and my rapid accent through the ranks, due to challenging and beating my superiors, thus catching Magneto's eye…_

_… My relationship with Magneto's then second-in-command John, or Pyro as he was known, and the literally firey breakup as I surpassed him… _

_… Then my revulsion at learning Magneto's full plans, not just the bits and pieces I had been told as a lowly fighter in the ranks… _

_… Sharpest of all my memories was Magneto's exploitation of my weakness. I could not use my Combat- Overlay to see the actions of an opponent BEHIND me, only in front of me. An image of me standing up in front of Magneto's desk in his lair, laying out my concerns with the mindless bloodshed he was causing. Him giving me no sign that he was evwen paying attention to what I was saying, his head in his hands. _

_Finally, raising his head and speaking. "I understand your concerns, but I can do nothing about them." Me, standing dumbfounded as I felt the metal oozing around my ankle, then stiffening, forming a chain and manticle. "I can do nothing but this." He'd said…_

_… The remaining memories were of being Magneto's unwilling Battle Commander for three long years. My escape wasn't much, as I'd simply turned recklessly on Magneto while walking in the woods. He'd been momentarily caught off balance by the sudden appearance of the X-men, and I'd jumped for the chance, knowing it was stupid to attack Magneto with a **metal sword**, but trying it desperately anyway…_

At this, I felt Professor Xavier withdraw from my mind, and I quickly slammed my shields back up. I hate people mucking around inside my skull.

OoOoOoO

I opened my eyes, not realizing I had closed them. The Professor was looking at me with something akin to respect, and Jean and the others with undisguised shock. " Did he really chain you, Kerrie?" Asked Ororo shakily. In answer, I lifted my pant leg. There on my ankle was an oddly blueish-silver cuff and chain. The chain, which had a wierdly melted link at the end, was coiled around my thigh to keep it out of the way.

" Magneto normally floated the chain-tail while I walked with him, said the clinking annoyed him." I said by way of explanation.

But that wasn't the most shocking thing. Ringing the cuff like a morbidly twisted sort of fungus was some deformed scar tissue covered by freshly chafed, infected skin. It hurt. It really hurt, like it normally did when it was cold outside. And, seeing as it was currently January in New York City, it was _really_ cold. "And now," I said, in a slightly strained voice, "Could you please get it off? Now?"

Jean shook herself and went to go get some tools, but Ororo interrupted her. "Way ahead of you, gal." she informed the startled X-man. Jean quickly accepted the tools and began working. I turned to Ororo, in an attempt to think about something else. "So, are you a teacher here?" I asked, my voice only shaking a little with emotion. It was finally coming off!

"Yes, I am. I teach geography and world cultures. But you are to old to go to our school, are you not? The cutoff age is 19. After that you have to pay for room and board and find some sort of job." I smothered a laugh. Suddenly I felt the cuff slide off and cool air encircle my leg. I was so happy I could have danced for joy. I didn't. but I could have.

Then I turned back to Ororo. "Actually, don't count me out. I just turned fifteen." Then I flopped back onto the table, not careing that it felt about 10 degrees below zero, and slept.

(A/N) Oi, people, REVIEW, (pretty pretty please?) !!! I'll take constructive criticism gladly, anything to help. The plot is still vauge-ish, and I'm working real hard not to make Kerrie a Mary-Sue. (She has faults, believe me. BIG ones. But, hey, what can I say?)

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My juicy tidbit for those who actually want to see MORE (yay!) of Swordflight:

I swung into the kitchen groggily. It was two a.m. in the morning, and I wasn't really thinking. Well I was but _"...hmm... ooh, beer...nah...vodka? Nah... "_ Shouldn't really count as thinking. It didn't occur to me that liquor had no place in a school for children. But as I said, I wasn't thinking too well then. I reached blindly into the fridge and grabbed something. It was probably alchohol, I didn't care. I'd been drunk before. Heck, I was drunk almost every night! Oh well...

(p.s. It's not what it seems! Or is it? muahaha.)

R&R, Please!!


	4. Spilt Milk

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-men

(a/n) This chapter does mention alcohol, in a forward context. Just read before you flame, or don't read at all. Thanx.

I swung into the kitchen groggily. It was two a.m. in the morning, and I wasn't really thinking. Well I was but _"...hmm... ooh, beer...nah...vodka? Nah..." _Shouldn'treally count as thinking. It didn't occur to me that liquor had no place in a school for children. But as I said, I wasn't thinking too well then. I reached blindly into the fridge and grabbed something. It was probably alcohol, I didn't care. I'd been drunk before. Heck, I was drunk almost every night! Oh well...

OoOoOoO

It was milk. I had grabbed a carton of milk at two a.m. in the morning. And had attempted to get drunk on it. Alcohol had been readily available to me at the Headquarters of the Brotherhood, and while I wasn't an alcoholic… You get what I'm saying. The only reason I wasn't, actually, was that it scrambled my power, big time. Seeing what move _every single person in sight_ was about to make was enough to give me a headache on top of the hangover, and limit my drinking to _slight_ drunkenness. But that's beside the point.

A rather bemused Logan had found me on the floor, drenched in milk, at a little past dawn. Or so they told me. I had awoken in the late morning to find several people bustling around the room and Jean sitting by my bed, reading a book.

As the gauges registered my renewed activity, I was busy figuring out where the heck I was. It seemed to be the same medical-ish place I had been in, except now I was in a bed, with pajama-like clothes on, and it was a totally different room. Jean smiled cheerily at me when she noticed I was awake, and put the book down. "Morning. Umm…" She paused. "How are you feeling?" She asked, finally.

"Urk. Oof. Ow." I groaned, stretching stiff muscles. "I repeat, ow. What happened? Last thing I know I was in the… kitchen, I think." Jean chuckled. _This was not a good sign._

"Actually, I was hoping you could tell us that, actually." I looked up to see Logan and the Professor entering the room. I frowned.

"I dunno. I can't really remember it… What? Did I do something?" The Professor and Jean chuckled, and Logan scowled.

" Well, bub, for starters, you can explain why you were on the floor drenched in milk." He growled. I froze, then laughed weakly.

"Oh. It was milk then?" Three puzzled gazes met mine. "Right then, I'd been hoping for something stronger, but, I guess its good in retrospect that it was only… milk. Huh. Kinda funny though." They all stared at me, slackjawed.

"Do you mean to say that you do this kind of thing… regularly?" Came Jean, looking of all things, concerned. I shrugged.

"Define regularly." Logan glared at me, and I relented. " The milk thing, no. I as too tired then to do anything else but grab the first thin that came to hand. As I said, I was hoping for something stronger, but…" The Professor frowned, and looked sternly at me.

"This is a school, Kerrie. No alcohol is allowed on premises." I looked askance at him.

"What to you drink then, if you can't drink alcohol?"

"Water. Are you used to drinking beers and such then, Kerrie?" Again, I looked askance at the Professor.

"I have since… since forever. Since I was twelve. Since… Magneto."

Xavier's eyebrow rose slightly but he said nothing but " Well, I must inform you that such activities are no longer permissible now that you are a student here at the Institute, Kerrie." I gaped at him. I had actually thought that they would take me. I had helped orchestrate crimes beyond their imaginings. I had personally killed at least two of their students/trainees in battles that they had been unfortunate enough to enter. And they were about to take me under their wings without a backwards glance? My brain screamed 'wait', and I did. My masks came back down, and I could feel myself hardening up again.

"What's the catch, Xavier?" I asked coldly. "Become a prisoner here for fear of being ratted out on or hunted? Or help you betray the humans and eradicate other living beings? Because I won't. And If you want me to, you'll just find out the hard way that I can kill as many as I need to stop that from happening, and their souls will weigh nothing in comparison to such a crime. Magneto tried to do it, and look what happened there. Look what has happened here!" I snapped, and stared him coldly in the eye. "Tell me. Now."

Xavier looked hard at me, then broke off and stared distantly in the opposite direction. "I wish to do none of those things. I am simply required to offer you a home and an education as you have no family or relatives. Those that do live cannot support you, and have stated as such. I talked to them earlier today."

" Not only is it a responsibility," began a voice, and we all turned to see Ororo wrapping her arms around Logan from behind while saying "We want you to come to the Institute because this is simply the right place for you to be. We want you to be here because you deserve a rest, and you deserve a life. And we'll all try to give that to you."

I paused, then looked at the adults surrounding me. I realized then that I wouldn't have to make decisions, wouldn't have to lead. So I gave in and spoke. "Yeah, I'll go." They all smiled. " One thing, though.

I've gotta keep the sword. Ok?" They all chuckled weakly, and I grinned evilly.


	5. Torture Testing

Disclaimer: I do not, I repeat, DO NOT, own the X-men.

Chapter 5: Torture (Testing)

Once my little milk escapade had been sorted out, Ororo volunteered to show me around the mansion, as she put it. Also, she wanted to test me and see where my knowledge lay.

The tour around the mansion sounded ok, but the testing? Not so much. I hadn't officially been to school since I was _twelve, _alright? Not to mention that the thought of being surrounded my kids my own age, who definitely knew me as a cohort of Magneto's, and probably thought I was out for their blood was not the most appealing.

Oh well. I _had_ said I wanted to do it, had I not? My brain, my pain. Sometimes I wonder what is going on in my skull…

The mansion was interesting, if only from a tactical standpoint. Three years with Magneto had forced me into the habit of finding exits and attack stratagies in every situation, and the mansion was a veritable warren. The kitchens, where I had so disastrously found myself in the morning hours were large and tidy, as was the main cafeteria. There were not many people around when Storm showed them to me, but part of me realized, and was grateful for, the fact that she had noticed my reluctance to meet my peers. The gardens and Ororo's gorgeous greenhouse were spacious and inviting, and I hoped I'd get a chance to wander sometime, if the X-men trusted me enough.

Eventually, though, it was time for the tests. I found that I was taking them in a small room that was an offshoot of Ororo and Logan's offices. It turns out that not only was Storm the world cultures teacher, but that Logan was the self-defense Instructor.

Gritting my teeth silently, I accepted the packet of tests Storm, sorry, _Ororo_ handed me. The stack was disturbingly large, and I saw that as far as subjects went, it ranged the gamut from English to advanced Chemistry to a frighteningly thick packet on algebra. There were also weird ones, like German. Honestly, German? Why on earth would I know _German_? Finally, I couldn't procrastinate any more. Did I mention I hate tests? So, I picked up my pencil and resigned my self to the inevitable.

Then I started.

I wrote, and wrote, and wrote. And wrote. I pounded my head on my desk, or almost, and attempted to dredge obscure formulas out of my unresponsive skull. And after staring at some of the tests and feeling abnormally stupid, I had to swear to myself that _yes, I had passed kindergarten_.

Finally, it was over. German tests had been tossed dazedly aside, as had algebra and a good many others. Biology, English, Social Studies and Chemistry, oddly enough, had been among the few to survive.

Looking at my pitiful pile of completed tests, the thought occurred to me, as it had so many other times, that maybe joining the Brotherhood had not been such a good idea after all. Here I was, fifteen years old, having barely an eighth grade education. Crap.

Ororo eventually came for the tests, and she looked rather concerned at the lack of completed ones. Of course, I wasn't paying much attention to the tests right then. My attention was locked on the man behind her. Logan, or Wolverine.

And he was playing with my sword.

My sword. _Playing,_ with my sword. And that, I do not allow. Touching my sword is bad enough, even if you're skewered on it. But playing? No way, José.

Calmly, I strode over to him, past Storm, and into the hallway where he was standing. He looked up at me, slid the sword back into its sheath and smiled. Then he ran.

Down the hallway, thought corridors and past rather startled teenagers, Wolverine ran, with me hot on his tail. Somehow, we ended up underground in the rather sterile looking part of the mansion, and then, I suddenly found my self in a room I knew only too well.

Magneto had called it the Danger Room, and had shown us plans of it countless times. I knew it like the back of my hand, and could draw up plans of it off the top of my head, like Cerebro. Except, what was going through my head then was …

_Oh my god, he's got my sword…why am I still running?...hmm, Danger room...Crap, DANGER!...Urk._

You see, a rather large fist had just collided with my head. And I, preoccupied with being in the fabled Danger Room for the first time, had totally missed it coming at me. In short, I dropped like a stone.

Thirty seconds later, I woke up AGAIN to unfamiliar surroundings with an unfamiliar person standing over me.

"You okay, kid?" Was the first thing out of Logan's mouth. I growled.

"What, why, and how would you like to die?" Was the first thing out of mine. Logan laughed.

"I'm the self-defense Instructor, if you didn't know. I wanted to do something that would really get you going, see how you reacted. And, I'd rather not die, thank you." I frowned, then realized he'd answered my other… question.

"Mm. Okay, now what?" I said. Logan only looked at me.

"We bout." He finally said.

I looked at him and gulped slightly. Logan was no mutie weakling, relying on his powers. Not that I was out of shape, but still…

He smiled wryly. I think he understood what I was thinking. Or not. Maybe he was just anticipating some fun. Crap.

(a/n)

Thanks bunches to Mari Knickerbocker, my ONLY REVIEWER! (hint, hint) To all of you out there, I don't mind if you hate it, just _tell me_ you do. Any constructive criticism helps! So, thanks to y'all who are still reading this, (even if you aren't reviewing…).


	6. The Danger Room

Disclaimer: Yes, my name is Stan Lee. I own the X-men. … Duh, of course I don't, sillies!

Chapter 6: the Danger Room

_Previously…_

"Mm. Okay, now what?" I said. Logan only looked at me.

"We bout." He finally said.

oOoOoOo

With little ceremony, Logan bent down and removed his shoes. It confused me, but after that dearth of tests, I had a right to be easily confused. When I made no move to copy him, he raised an eyebrow, and I quickly got the hint.

Then, we turned to face each other, and I felt a sudden sense of déjà vu. I had fought numerous duels as a part of working my way to the top of the ranks, and this face-off felt eerily similar, except for the fact that Logan wasn't hungry for my blood, nor out to kill me. Maim me, maybe, but kill me? No.

At least I hoped not…

My body must have betrayed my tense state to Logan, because he suddenly gave me a wry grin. "No worries, kid. I'm just here to se what y've got. And unlike some others, you might actually have somethin' to show."

I gulped again. Here went nothing.

With a nod of his head, Wolverine started the bout. We instantly began to circle each other, eyeing our opponent's weaknesses. To be dead honest, Wolverine didn't seem to have many. He moved slickly, with a definitively predatory grace. The second the bout started, he held himself differently, too. He was all eyes and alert glances, taking in as much as he possibly could.

Reflexively, I switched into combat-overlay, watching the twitch of his muscles before they happened. That was the only thing that warned me.

Wolverine lunged, his fist on a collision course with my lower jaw. Being only slightly taller than him, I didn't duck, but grabbed the fist and rolled with the punch using the leverage to flip down-and-under, sending him flying. I missed the weight of the sword at my back, but now was not the time for distractions.

The bout continued on for several minutes, an odd mix of street fighting and instinct. Most of what I did I knew was simply a reaction to the muscle movements I saw foreshadowed, and as anything, the actions were flawed by a lack of experience or understanding.

Three minutes in, I hit the mat in a graceless tumble after swiping Wolverine's feet out from under him and losing my own footing in the process. Quick as a flash, Wolverine was on me, pinning me effortlessly to the mat.

After a few seconds of struggling, I slumped, glaring at him with irritated eyes. I hate losing.

"Not bad, kid." He mused, staring at me. "But your dodges are a little on the slow side, and your left kicks, frankly, suck." I gaped at him, astonished. I hadn't ever kicked him during the bout with my left foot, so how would he know that?

Irritated, I said as much. "Exactly, kid." Was the reply. "You didn't use them, and consequently, they are a weak spot."

Damn. That actually made sense.

"But, no one's perfect. You'll do." He said gruffly. That was when another voice joined the conversation.

"Ha. He's just pulling you on, Kerrie." I whirled, it was Scott. "What shorty here won't say is that you're the first student to get a personal, _active_ examination in three years. Basically, he thinks you've got the chance of actually doing something in the examination, unlike some ignorant karate-chopping kid."

I turned back to Logan, eyebrows raised. "This true?" I asked into the silence. He rolled his eyes, then nodded.

"Yup, it's true. We get a lot of kids with hard life-stories, but yours was rather harder than most. The Prof. wanted to make sure you were tested and accepted by the faculty for when it comes time to meet the others. We'll all vouch for you, if need be."

I grimaced. Great. Even Xavier foresaw possible trouble.

"Speaking of others, the Prof. sent me here to make sure you were still breathing, had all your limbs attached, and to ask if you were ready to meet your roommate. So, are you ready?" That was Scott, looking at me questioningly.

I blinked, then froze. Roommate? Oh, dear. "Um…" I muttered, then said louder, "Do you think a roommate is the best idea? I mean. I'm not exactly unknown around here, and certainly not the most well thought of person in the world…" I trailed off, uncertain.

Scott grinned slightly. "Trust me, you'll be fine. You're not the first person in this situation that we've had. Though, you _are_ the first to be a student."

I groaned softly. _Great, this just is getting better and better._

"Anyway, Logan can show you the showers, then I'll meet you in the hallway. Cool?" Scott again, derailing my train of thought. I nodded absentmindedly, still stuck on the whole "roommate" thing.

With quick steps, Logan showed me to the showers, which were conveniently close to the Danger Room. I relished the hot shower after almost nine days without one, not to mention the recent flight through the halls of the mansion and the subsequent bout. My brain still felt rather on the mushy side, and then I realized it.

I was at a _school_. This meant learning, and _homework_. Two things I had done without for almost four years now. And learning meant tests. I hate tests. Like, really hate them, if that wasn't already apparent.

Reluctantly, I exited the showers and dragged on my clothes, procrastinating going outside to, eventually, meet my roommate. But finally, I could dally no longer.

Scott took me upstairs again and into a small building that was almost a separate wing of the mansion. "This is the Jasper dormitory. It is one of the smaller ones, but it is for the use of the older students. You'll share a room with one other girl, and a bathroom with three others. Boys on the right, girls on the left." He said, walking briskly down the hallway. It was rather quiet, with little noise in the hallway. Where was everybody? "Most students are at lunch right now, so this isn't the normal state of things."

Question answered. "So," He trailed off. Then he shook himself and began again. "Here's your room."

On the door were two names. Kerrie Grae and Aya Mason. Aya. That was my new roommate. Her name didn't betray ethnicity or anything, so that was useless. There was only one hope left for me…

_Please don't let her be up with the current mutant news, for both our sakes! _


	7. In His Eyes

Disclaimer: My name is Stan Lee. I own the X-men… O.o

Chapter 7: In His Eyes

_Previously…_

On the door were two names. Kerrie Grae and Aya Mason. Aya. That was my new roommate. Her name didn't betray ethnicity or anything, so that was useless. There was only one hope left for me…

_Please don't let her be up with the current mutant news, for both our sakes! _

oOoOoOo

Gulping nervously, I grasped the knob, then hesitated. Here I was, veteran of several rather nasty battles, (courtesy of Magneto), and the mere thought of my new roommate terrified me out of my skull. With a mental shake, I turned the knob and pushed the door open. "Hello?" I called cautiously.

Silence. Without thinking, I snapped up my Combat-Overlay as I advanced into the still room. Two tall windows to my right let in a copious amount of sunlight, and illuminated the room clearly. To my left were two beds, one clear and tidily well made, the other piled with a variety of objects, and a door that likely led to the bathroom. Lastly, two desks completed the dorm room image. At least, I assumed there were two desks. Like the beds, one was clear and tidy, while the other was piled with so much stuff I had difficulty determining if it _was_ a desk.

In the midst of my contemplation, I barely noticed the footsteps of someone approaching from behind me. The featherlight touch on my shoulder snapped me from my thoughts and sent me whirling around, sword half-drawn. Instantly, my mind flashed back to Magneto. The man's catlike grace and frighteningly gentle touch were forever ingrained into my mind. For all his apparent brutality, Eric Lensherr had been capable of the quietest movements. His knack for silently entering a room had been the downfall of many a disgruntled mutant, and I had seen more than enough of it in my years with the Brotherhood to be wary.

With my Combat-Overlay brought up to its fullest level, I dropped into a crouch, my now fully unsheathed sword held steadily in front of me. It took me several seconds to realize that the figure in front of me was not Magneto, but Scott. Despite the fact that the tip of my sword hovered only inches from his nose, he stood calmly, hands raised in a gesture that told me clearly that he was unarmed and not attempting to hurt me.

With a shaky breath, I uncurled from my defensive position and lowered the blade, then dropped the Overlay with a thought. As I silently moved to sheath the sword again, I felt my hands tremble with the ebbing adrenaline. Sliding the blade home with a familiar _snikt_, I let my self sag into a convenient armchair by the windows, my mind grey with the surge of fear and adrenaline that had coursed through my veins. I focused all my attention on slowing the frantic beating of my heart and immersed myself in the steady in-and-out of my breaths.

"Kestrel?" Scott's voice, tinged with concern, brought me back to the world at hand. Now that the intensity of the moment had faded, I felt the heat rising in my cheeks at the thought of what I'd done.

"Crap." I mumbled under my breath. It was followed by a string of other colorful oaths as I buried my face in my still faintly trembling hands. I was so in for it now.

"Kestrel? Kerrie? C'mon, its over. You okay?"

At that, my head snapped back up, and I frowned at the other mutant. "What kind of question is that, anyway? People always ask it you're okay when you're very clearly _not._ I mean, really?"

Scott paused, then returned my frown. "Never thought of it that way. Still," He hesitated, then looked at me squarely. "I want you to understand that this is a school."

I shot to my feet, my eyes never leaving the older mutant's. "If you are implying that I'd ever hurt any of the students, or that I would willingly endanger them-" I began, then stopped. The X-Men had a right to be suspicious of me. After all, my past was less than reassuring. I closed my eyes briefly, then opened them again. Scott still had not moved from his position near the middle of the room, nor had his posture changed. His hands still hung loosely at his sides, and his gaze was still firmly on me.

"No. I simply want you to know that we are all here to help you. As I said before, you are not the first mutant to come to the Institute with such a backstory, nor are you the first student to have endured a difficult life." He stated finally.

After what felt like an eternity, I nodded once, sharply, acknowledging his words. A small part of me wondered bemusedly at the fact that I had engaged in a staring contest with a man whose naked eyes shot lasers. The random thought dispelled the last of the cloud that fogged my thoughts, and I grinned tiredly at Scott. With that, we both turned to face the rest of the room, and I settled into an easy silence as Scott explained the rules and expectations for a student at the Institute. Things were beginning to look just a little bit brighter.

Then, I remembered. With all that had happened in the last fifteen minutes, I had forgotten what I had been stressing about in the first place. I still had not met my new roommate.

A now familiar feeling of dread settled in the pit of my stomach. Crud.

(a/n)

Yes, I'm back. So sorry. (It's been… what, a year? Oops.) This story simply… died. Now, hopefully, I can take it off life support and get it breathing again. I know that this is is a rather short update, but I am currently shredding apart the other chapters and cleaning them up. Plus, Chapter 8 is half written! So, keep a weather eye out if you like it.


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